The Epistolean S2
by Baha
Summary: Pacey's relationship with his family, friends and conquests explored through letters to boyhood friend Will Krudski. Basically Pacey's POV from season two onwards. R&R please!
1. Revised Relationships

_Obviously this isn't posted the same night I wrote it William, but read this and bear in mind I'm in a happier mood. I can't disregard this letter because... well because it's too damn long to throw away. This is your punishment. To read a lengthy letter. I didn't have enough time to write a short one._

Dear Cruddy,

We both said some things we didn't mean. Joey came to see me tonight, and I know you can't see the link between our argument and this, but I do. It got me thinking, so I decided to write to you again. Joey's picking Dawson and I don't know if it's because I'm tired of being alone or she's suddenly gotten really hot but... I think I have a crush on her. It... it won't go away, well it's... it's all the snail's fault really!

No. I'm not high.

She went to see her father tonight. I took her, she got kind of emotional. That good kind of sadness, I think. She was real quiet the entire ride home, but before going over to Dawson's (I'm guessing) she stopped by mine. I'd already brought her back to her place, I was only home an hour myself when she dropped by. Maybe she felt she had things to say to me to make up for the lack of conversation in my Pop's car, who knows?

I think she was a bit offended when she came up to my room to be honest. She said something about my dad asking my ma if the deadbeat was around, someone at the door for him, and my mom told him she hadn't seen me for days. I live with them, it's not like I'm a recluse! And see Joey being Joey knew I wasn't hanging round the group as often as normal... one of my phases again I suppose, like after the detention, well, I didn't really go to the Leery place much after the whole beauty pageant thing. So that's why she asked me how they didn't notice I was around.

They sent her up to my bedroom anyway. It was quite embarrassing actually because I'd fallen asleep on the bed, I wasn't in bed, I was just... I'd been reading. I'd have preferred if I didn't fall asleep reading a playboy with my zipper down but when it comes to me she probably expects as much. But I wasn't... I was mid-changing when I picked up the magazine... oh God. Apparently I'd only kept her five minutes when I woke, and she was smiling and looking about the place curiously, but it was one of those pity-smiles. Like she felt sorry for me or something. I don't see why, my room ain't that messy.

We talked some. She was sitting with her feet up on my bed. It's late right now. I'm really tired. I'll blink my eyes slowly, shake myself awake and try to continue my little story here in case I lose my bottle in the morning and refuse to write to you again. You know how it goes. I don't want another three odd months between us, Will.

So anyway, we talked about our dads. We've never done that before. She asked what it was like having a do-gooder as an old man and I couldn't answer her. I just put my head down, but for the life of me I could not answer her. I don't know why. Man, it was like... it was like I couldn't form proper sentences from my own mouth even though I was screaming what I wanted to articulate inside my head. Whilst she found the night wholly liberating it was like there was some new barrier going up for me; and I just...

She decided that she'd found peace with hers, and from what I can remember, despite his faults, Mr. Potter was an alright guy. He wasn't that good to their mom but he tried to right his wrongs with his daughters. Mines barely acknowledges me let alone the issues surrounding me. Saying that, he creates most of the issues surrounding me. Ha... huh.

I don't know what she meant, but she thanked me for my "serenity." Probably because she's way too neurotic the whole time. Or maybe because when it comes to the less than stellar home life, and she turns to Dawson, he pretends to relate even though he has it so sweet and he hasn't a clue why. Fair enough his parents are going through a little rough patch at the minute, but he didn't have to grow up with it. He's always pretended to relate, so much so that I swear he almost gets off on his parents' new marital woes, it's weird.

I think a whole ten minutes passed us by without talking and she got a bit nervous, it was like the car ride home but this time she had the option to run without demanding I hit the brakes and strand her out on some highway because prior to tonight or the Miss Windjammer thing or a recent biology experiment - uh - her being stranded, I'm pretty sure, would definitely be more appealing than enduring a conversation with yours truly.

I cleared my throat, but I don't even think I managed two words to her the entire time she sat up with me. When we were talking about our fathers, like I said, she'd ask questions, I'd keep my head down, silent, then she'd tell me how it was for her. She hasn't had regular contact with Mr. Potter in God knows how long and I live with mines and do you know what conclusion I've come to? I don't know the man. I think she's depressed me because my brain was able to function perfectly and manage words prior to her being in my house.

Or maybe it was just that. She was in my house. People aren't meant to visit me. It's just not the done deal. She gets a glimpse into the hell that is my life, pushes it to the deepest recesses of her mind thereafter but our friendship - if you can call it a friendship, even at best - will forever be plagued with that pity-smile. I know she knows. I seen it in her eyes. She touched my hand and I stiffened. I don't mean the crush thing, God no! The same thing Doug's now pretending that he doesn't know.

It's an odd thing when your sworn enemy pities you. It's an odd thing when she doesn't shine smugly with the knowledge that when she ain't kicking your ass, someone else is beating you after his night cap in the late evening. It's an even odder thing when... she kind of cares.

Night,

Pace.


	2. Blood Brothers

Dear Pacey,

So she knows. Is she going to say anything to anyone? You'd better hope not. One word to Dawson, you just _know_ Mr Boy Morals will go to his folks about the whole thing. Once adults know, your school will get involved, any bad grade, any slip in a subject, any backtalk to a teacher, they'll document the lot, bring it higher: social services. Your dad will lose his job. You'll make the talk of the town. Again.

Okay perhaps I need to calm down. I have a really bad toothache. I'm just... I'm getting carried away with the fact you actually went around the whole not talking thing. I'm _so_, so grateful man. You don't know how much. Or maybe you do. Maybe that's the point. And there I go underestimating our friendship again.

Hang on, I'm away to get food. I don't know why I'm writing this because I could take as long a break as I want, it has no bearing on the writing of a letter, but hey. If we're going to start anew, there'll be no secrets. BUT! You know the whole 'caught with your pants down' thing? Or, your zipper, same difference when it comes to Joey because, let's face it, even the whitest of Disney characters could make the girl seem quite the prude, but don't feel the need you have to share every little detail, Pace. Trust me, there's deep and meaningful conversations through the post, innermost fears and thoughts and secrets. And then there's Pacey, and with Pacey, comes too much information...

Hey, dude. Back. Had me some potato chips. Damn, it's a long while till dinner. I got a new Johnny Cash album, you'd like it. Right, I suppose I'm avoiding the issue. Besides your issue. The reason we were fighting. Uh... it was a blend of family problems and girl trouble, right? Do you mind if we put Padre Witter and Daddy Krudski on the backburner for a bit, because I did the noble thing and talked to Theresa for you. Sorry, not for you. But because of you.

She said sorry for hitting you if that's any consolation haha! Ha... well, she apologised to _me _for hitting you, she knows you're like a brother. Do you remember the time we tried to seal the deal? (No not _that _deal sicko. Still laying your head in that Goddamn gutter?) Me, you and Dawson. Right out in front of our little fort. We took a shard of glass you found and pocketed on the walk home from school and then of course Dawson started crying about... disease and... he was a mighty intelligent kid for his time. What were we, nine?

Do you remember, we crept into your big brother's room and swiped his scout's army knife - still with the same idea in mind. I remember having to bully Dawson a full half hour, trying to convince him that you'd sterilised the thing! Then, of course, to prove nothing would happen you shoved up your sleeve and drew blood first, dropped the knife, fell to your knees and pretended to choke up! Man, that was classic. He squealed like such a girl! Is he still like that? Kind of... skittish? Skittish and... sissy?

I remember biting my tongue when you handed me Doug's knife, it hurt like hell, didn't it? But we couldn't even wince because Dawson would have chickened out. I think I forced a laugh, pretending that it tickled just so Dawson would actually go through with it. He was still adamant though because I remember you knocking him to the ground, picking up the knife from the dirt and scrabbling around, trying to pin him down so I could make the small nick. He was a lot heavier then though. I think it took the two of us to hold him still. Blood brothers.

Anyway, sorry about the digression there, I just... I love forgetting how long we've known each other because when random memories surprise me, I really appreciate them then. Sort of like a death... I think I'm closer to dead people than when they're alive, you know my grandparents and that, because... I know what I mean. That's all that counts.

Another mini digression there. Right! Focus. Focus, focus, hungry... I talked to Theresa. She was confused that I started talking about that night actually, the whole thing you told me about just you and her out back. She was probably half out of it herself that night, but saying that I don't think I came off well. When I was trying to subtly bring up the conversation it sounded like I was implying she led you outside and, I don't know, serviced you or something! It sounded entirely seedy! Then I prompted her about you two just talking things out. Really talking things out. I said you admitted about me and Trish coming up in conversation. "Oh," was her slow response.

She basically reiterated what you were trying to spit out, man. And I guess what I'm trying to say is, well, you know, I'm, hell I'll just come out with it: I'm sorry for not believing you. About... Tricia. I'm going to talk to her. I think. Do you think I should? Maybe I shouldn't. It might only upset her. She's probably over everything, maybe signing my cast was just a friendly thing, there was no deeper meaning thing, she wasn't concerned that I'd be waking up with her name every morning for six whole weeks. She... should I talk to her? What do you think? Maybe I'll leave it up to fate. I'll flick a coin. Right, tails I talk, heads I - I don't.

Would you look at that? My quarter says tails. But you know, I don't think I'm a fan of fate. I'm more a man of freewill. Woah, my hands are starting to sweat up. Why do you suppose that is? I can hardly hold my pen now... I'm, I'm going to sign off here, Pace. I - I hope it all works out with you. Wish me luck. No! Don't. Don't wish me luck. I don't believe in fate and luck and all that.

I'll heed one piece of advice of yours that has stuck in my mind all these years, with a fist in the air, "solidarity, hombre." Solidarity. You're laughing at me right now, aren't you? Well screw you Pacey because I have one up on you. Theresa told me something about that night, about you, that you apparently omitted in your account. Wink, wink Pacey you naughty, naughty boy you!

Later,

Will.


	3. Kicking and Screaming Or Going Willingly

Dear Cruddy,

Oh God. What did I do? I... I can't think of a thing. Was this before or after the fight? Unless I... no, no I - are you just trying to make me paranoid, not that I have anything to be ashamed of if you know what I mean but - I - I was a good boy smiles shyly

Right let me relive this before I tell you what I've been dying to tell you ever since I posted that first letter there. We had a few beers back at your place before we went out. Met the guys at the bar. Had more. Had shots. Tried... absinthe... wine, there was a lot of wine.

And Schofield gave me and Silvestri some curious looking cocktail and made us race each other, see who could drink theirs first. It got a bit competitive, I remember that much, I remember racing him six drinks in a row but at this point we'd moved on to shots again. Four shots and I coughed and spilled mines down my front. He won. Theresa laughed, she was laughing with Tricia and then... took me away. But we didn't go outside by this point. We went to the bathroom, the ladies'. And then Tricia came in and laughed again, apparently we were away damn near an hour but I can't remember word one of whatever it was we were talking about inside that hour.

Was it what I _said_ or what I _did_? What happened? Come on man, I'd put you out of your misery! And it was months ago so I can handle it. I'm over it. If, if I knew what it was. Well, hell I don't even care. I mean, what's the worst that I could have done that I should be held responsible for with _that_ much alcohol inside me? Saying that... that was only the start of the night, we were drinking long after that because the scuffle with Brett wasn't until last orders. Timed well, huh? Well, like I said, I don't care... much. Aw, just tell me what I did!

_Anyway_! I'm not going to be sucked into your little mind games, Will Krudski, not this time. I have one thing to tell you. I met an angel. I crashed my Pop's car and - no - didn't see a white light. I crashed into this perky little blonde. The happy Potter we tried to envision, a bit like Theresa but she talks faster. Sorry, _she_ crashed into _me_, it wasn't the other way about, and she totally freaked out because it was the patrol car I'd borrowed without asking this time. Suffice to say I'm grounded but God_damn_ it was totally worth it!

I'm very emphatic today I've noticed. Meh.

I proposed to Theresa, didn't I? How's this only coming back to me now? Aw man, I dragged on Tricia's arm, slammed the door closed after her and told her to be our witness. That's why Trish was laughing when she entered. She'd walked in on us, me on bended knee, Theresa shaking her head and pissing herself laughing at me.

Right. Ignoring my time spent in _your_ life, I'm going to finish my story. I can't believe I forgot that though...

So her name's Andie. Andie McPhee. She's cute and all, but that's not why she's special. She knows Kristy Livingstone and - and - and now look whose hands are sweating. She's agreed to set us up! You don't believe in fate? Well, dude, I'm no longer metaphorically blinded - like that ah, that Oedipus guy, except I don't go sleeping with my mother. My point being, I have the wealth of knowledge, it's who you know not what you know and I am definitely a believer in fate. If she hadn't have crashed into me I wouldn't be seeing Kristy tomorrow night. Ding, ding.

I dyed my hair. Do you remember two summers before sophomore I'd bleached blonde? Well, not quite so drastic this year, and I have the opportunity to cut the blonde out this time but... well, yeah, you get the point. In giving myself a Caesarean section and cutting out that bowl haircut thing I had going on for too long, it got me thinking; D has a boyband-esque haircut...

I'm away to get me some soup. I'm in the mood for tomato. Oh, and some bread! Some bread and butter. Not that cheap imitation margarine slab for cholesterol-busters and the big'un diet-iste. I don't think I have to worry about the thick of my middle for a few years yet. It's only usually sucking on too many beer necks that gives us Witter boys the potbelly; so maybe I'll switch to low-fat Fat if or when my life coincides with the frat side of college, huh?

El Eight Ar

Pacey J.


	4. When A Man's a Little Drunk

Dear Paccius,

Cheers for that little bathroom revelation there, but no. There was no grand proposals to speak of, well, I'm not saying that that didn't happen, because when it comes to you... any idiotic plan seems believable. But you're right, it did involve another party but it sure as heck wasn't Tricia. When she took you outside to let Silvestri cool off, she said she hit you for a hell of a lot more than exerting your dislike of Brett and trying to monopolise on her time and stuff. But she didn't hit you in anger per se, it was more to knock a little sense into you.

_You_ said you both kissed, _she_ said you were a little more physical than that. Dude, you tried to give her a striptease whilst stumbling through an apparently raw rendition of Percy Sledge's When A Man Loves A Woman! Aw, man I'm cringing for you right now because apparently you got so far as unbuckling your belt but got your head stuck in your shirt, much like inside the bar, you loser. And do you really want to know who the third party was? The kind friend who was making sure she could handle you and recommended she get you home as soon as? An equal subject to your not at all tasteful little display?

You tried to undress for Schofield. Man! What the hell were you thinking? I mean, I can't even remember him being outside for any length of time because when I was tied up it was due to him kicking my ass, but apparently not. I've always wondered why he took to calling you fudge packer, but there you go. No surprise as to why you and Joey got off on the wrong foot, too much nails and handbags over Dawson, huh bro?

So... we're back to Kristy then? What happened to Potter? Or are you over that hormonal little hiccup of yours already? And what about Andie? Are you not even pausing to consider her? You described her as something closer to Theresa, and, to my knowledge, the only thing keeping you two from ever properly hitting it off is the mild little obstacle of distance and no current mode of transport. Unless you're prepared to shell out on bus fare all the time.

I can't keep up with you. And, hey, before I forget. Do you remember we had words about your moods hopping too dramatically? Keep a check on that, Pace. I don't mean you calming down after my letter, I mean the one about you and Joey and then the little note at the top assuring that the next day upon posting you felt completely fine. I don't think that's all that normal, buddy. You can't be on such a low one minute, get terribly excited over... Kristy, apparently, the next minute and then where have you left yourself? Square one again? At least with me I'm forever smack dab in the middle of angst and anxiety. You? Well, you take two steps forward and one step back.

W. E. Krudski


	5. The Heart Stripe

Dear Cruddy,

Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Let's recap...

Okay, first off I've only ever stripped for another man with any hint of sexual innuendo once. And it didn't even count. I was trying to freak Dawson out, appeal to the more homophobic him because he was pretending to be all new-age and liberated when you just _know _he's closer to the squeamish black-and-white Fifties gentleman than he lets on.

Second, the hiccup with Potter? I've definitely remedied that. I didn't even need to drink a glass of water the wrong side round, hold my breath or have someone spook the bejesus out of me. She put on weight. Naw, only joking. I... I sucked it in, man. She's going out with D now and he's my best friend. And it's me and Jo - it's - not in a million years.

I know we've predicted this for some time and you'd think I'd have more to say on the subject. The Great pull of Dawson and Joey, but to be honest... I think they brainwashed me into caring. I don't have the mental capacity or energy to keep up with them. Plus watching her all doe-eyed over him is enough to put any guy off his lunch. Trying to have a conversation with the guy is just as sickening because he twists your words round to relating to his life even more so. For instance:

Oompa: "Hey, Pace. How's it going? Haven't talked to you all day."

Moi: "Well, it's a little difficult managing words when you've got a Potter latched onto your face, isn't it?"

"Pacey, grow up. You're just jealous."

"Sorry, you're right. You're right. Hey, I was thinking, now that you've scheduled in some time to remember your friends, me and Jen were thinking of going up to Boston next weekend. I could steal my Pop's car and deal with him when we get back. It's not like I don't get busted on regardless."

"Joey doesn't appreciate your driving. She thinks-"

"Okay. I didn't mention her."

"Pace..."

Then I throw a brick at his shiny head and run off into the sunset maniacally laughing because I've ceased the severe headache that is Dawson defending Joey's good name. No. Not really. They only _just_ got together and as far as I know it that means they kissed and started analysing and freaking out about the inevitability of a second kiss. Aw, young love. How sweet.

I am happy for 'em though. But... so out of the loop here, last time I heard it she was going to France. That's... not a very interesting story, so I don't think I clued you in but... I think she's sticking around for him.

Okay, third, Andie totally screwed me over. Hence the reason I wouldn't even dare consider the perky-ass wench. The whole Operation Kristy thing? It was a prank. A prank! Can you believe that? Me. I mean, I should have saw it coming. Apparently she was pretty pissed off at me impersonating a cop blah-blah. Kristy almost bailed on our date, dropped by to commiserate my bad health. Yes, apparently I'm dying, you see. At least that's what Andie's been telling her. I have this heart condition. A heart stripe. Any minute now this stripe might decide to choke my little aorta lifeless. Thud.

It's a major insult to someone's intelligence when such an obvious lie is posed to 'em, no? It's such an insult to a guy's self-esteem when he pines after a blonde so - blonde! - that she actually takes said lie as the truth. But I did deserve it, I suppose.

We met up afterwards though. She advised me about hair dye to take it back to brown. Brunette. Whatever. Andie, that is. Not Kristy Living-slow. We sort of had a little truce about the whole thing, so I'm sitting with my bottle of - I think I can trust her this time. I've no reason not to because technically we're even now but I swear to God if I turn in to school tomorrow with an electric blue 'do Miss Energetic is so dead. I'm talking six-foot under, already past the stage she fell to her knees and rued the day she messed about with me.

Ahem. She's equally as cute as Potter, I guess. No. More so. It's dangerous looking at Joey that way. It's mostly weird, but it's dangerous. She's... ugh. It's like incest or something. The laws of the universe just scream no. Andie though, she's... animated; and it's so unbelievably easy to wind her up and watch her go. Like a ballerina in a jewellery box. Eloquent Pacey. Eloquent. Don't worry, man, I've hit myself for that one - to save you the bother.

The thing about Andie though - she irritates me too! I suppose that's why she's like Potter in that regard. She proves her worth, gives as good as she gets, gives _more_ than she gets. But she's got less baggage than Jo and to my knowledge there's no hint of a Dawson-esque character. She's your typical little rich girl, you see. 2.4 family I assume and nothing to fret about but the breaking of a nail. People like that annoy me. They have it so easy and they see the good in everyone and they're intelligent and witty and perfectly formed and -

I, I'm going to stop myself right here. Not that I care about McPhee or anything, I'm just real tired again tonight. I'm going to take a shower before bed. A nice cold shower. Waken myself up a little, um, before bed... yeah, there's logic there, great, yeah, bye.

PW-


	6. Highway Man

_For Jaycie Victory _:)

* * *

Letter one of two. Sorry, I couldn't _not_ continue on from my little after-note.

Dear Pace,

I want to be a highway man. I've decided. I want to be one of those guys that sets sail down the open road, scaling the dusty lanes of America in a beat-up truck with 12 cent in his pockets, his shoes flap and he can't remember the last time he had a hot meal let alone brushed his teeth.

My dad's a factory worker. Total townie. Has no great ambitions to leave this place anytime soon, and not that he should, I hate the man but I respect him in that regard. He's doing what's good for him. Staying where the work is, staying to support his family, except he's far from the ideal Family Man.

I don't want to stay and be loathed. I want to come and go and be missed and everything. I want to travel. I want to be cultured by the travelling. I want to appreciate this place when I come back to it. Hell, it made me miss Capeside! Saying that... I really did like Capeside, growing up. Knowing it was quiet because, at the time, I was too young to understand the lack of nightlife. To me, as a young boy, it was water, big trees, a safe place to run around in at all hours, friends. Must suck to be there now though, no?

The fact that everyone knows everyone, getting into a place that doesn't card has no bearing because chances are the bartender or the waitress probably babysat you as a kid. Hypothetically, you. Not you-you, Pace. But with that comes an upside. There must be more house parties then, yeah? And all the big rich kids trying to humble themselves with the common man must have some pretty cool wagers out on their stiff little yachts, I'd imagine. I'm bored.

It's exactly 11:11 and I'm sitting up in bed, our little letter here balancing on a book on the tops of my knees. My father's working 9 to 5 - the other 9 and the other 5 - so having him pull these nightshifts... things are much calmer at home. And, oddly, it's boring. I used to assume my mom and I were bonded through fear of the old man, well, not fear per se, but... well, it turns out she doesn't have as much time for me as I'd have thought.

She runs about the place acting like she misses him. Since he's started in on me, she thinks it's all happy again pre-Will's existence. Well, that's not true, he wasn't always like the way he is. He only really started to kick out at the world after his accident. You remember that? I had to stay in your house for about four days in the summer when he was in hospital. Your folks were so good to me, both of them. You were an ass though. I think I made it my business to ensure the four days, for you, would be hell. God, I couldn't stand you as a child, what the hell made us swap addresses after I moved?

So how's it going down your end? Your folks still - not noticing you? What's worse because apparently my house is a cheap imitation of yours, except I don't have sisters and a badge brother to swallow up even more of the already short supply of attention. Seriously, I mean, would you prefer your dad with the hitting and the verbal abuse and all that or would you prefer - like the other night when Jo popped back - for them to ignore your presence? I used to be so close to my mom. He's destroyed that for us.

Damn it, man! I need out of this house. I need to leave, just get up and leave and have my mother remember how important I am to her. I don't even care how spoiled I sound at the minute, she's my mother for Christ's sake. She's meant to notice even a little bit. I'm going to stop myself mid-rant here because this could go on for some time. I'm going to go search the internet for a beat-up truck and a new toothbrush.

Later dude,

Will.

PS. Pacey and Andie sitting in a tree. K - I - S - S - I - N - G. First comes love. Then comes marriage. And then comes a baby in a golden carriage.

Letter two of two.

I don't think I need a 'dear' so I'll just start right in.

Aw, my little boy's all grown up! Have we hit puberty Pacey? First Kristy, well always Kristy, then Joey and now Andie. You've never been blind to the opposite sex, but now you're fully realising that they are actually all around you. It took you long enough to recognise Joey the goddess she is, I mean not to sound too crude here or too... _you_, but my God, she's a hottie!

And this Andie girl... you've already tried to define her for my sake, a cross between Theresa and Potter, I think. Look, you've got me calling Joey 'Potter' now. Anyway correct me if I'm wrong but why try to exact a personality from the girl if you, as you say, aren't interested even one little bit? She's getting to you. I know you. She's getting to you big time! Hell, you sound like me when I first started dating Trish.

Hang on till I root around my drawer a minute for your last - aha - here - this is what you said: "But I did deserve it, I suppose." Sounds to me like she's taken you down a much needed peg, dude. That's not a very Pacey-like thing to say, you're usually more cocky than that. "She proves her worth, gives as good as she gets, gives more than she gets." Is she a challenge then? Goddamn, you're like a little whipped pup and you've only crossed wires 24 hours!

Not that I'm nudging you or - well - let's be honest, you're dynamite when it comes to denial so it's more of a shove than a nudge but that's not really the point here - point is - what was my point? Ah, yes. You know I'm good at predicting how situations and relationships pan out. Well, situations and relationships that don't concern me anyway.

"People like that annoy me. They have it so easy and they see the good in everyone and they're intelligent and witty and perfectly formed and -" Hold on tight, loser. You're in for a rough ride.

(Apologies for so much reflection on letters past. I'm clearly in a quoting mood today! No doubt inspired by the four page English essay prior to my mocking of you).

Oh, and before I forget: happy birthday Pace. Your present should be in the post. I think you'll like it.

Will.


	7. Birthday Curse

Dear William,

Okay, okay, okay forgetting Andie for a second because you're totally one hundred and ten per cent wrong about that, but our boy Leery? Officially making me liable to puke my guts up any day now. I know I didn't really buy into the whole thing in my last letter because, well, how much commitment surrounds one little kiss? But I actually want to hurt the guy. From your point of view, because I'm decidedly more biased, was he always so damn self-absorbed?

If something doesn't directly concern him, screw it, doesn't count. He forgot my birthday. I failed my driving test. And... Jen's grandfather died.

Jen. That actually annoys me more. The girl's obviously grieving and he and Joey are too busy having some stupid little fight about, aw God what was it...? She thinks he sucks as a filmmaker and they're doing the whole "we've known each other forever but we don't know each other at all!" schtick and they can't even tone it down and remember her. _Her_, being Jen. She and Dawson haven't split up all that long ago, her family's just halved itself again and - I can't stand the guy. He's so insensitive.

I threw my own party. Met Andie at it. We established that I can't surpass anything other than annoying the hell out of her so _technically_ we're - matched. In this odd... highly dysfunctional but entirely rational way. She gave me a dumb gift, a magic eight ball, but it was sweet, then she went and dropped it in the water when I let her have a go. I thought it was even sweeter. She's... aw, you'd really like her, Will.

D circled round after kissing and making up with Potter and came to apologise, but... hey, it's a given right? We're meant to grow up and drift and - he and I kissed and made up too so I don't really understand why I got so heated at the beginning of writing to tell you, seeing as it's all past tense or whatever. Water under the bridge and all that. I suppose it's because I'm submissively his friend again. I'm tired of - if living with the tyrant that is my father has taught me one thing, it's to get over things pretty quickly.

Oh, yo, cheers for the Swiss army knife! How very sentimental of you, Blood Brother. Especially considering we lost Doug's shortly after that. Seriously Will, thanks man.

Peace out,

Pace.


End file.
